


A Little Treason

by Reulte



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Loyalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reulte/pseuds/Reulte
Summary: What happened to Captain Rex and his troopers; Echo, Fives and Chopper after Order 66.A short story on love and loyalty.





	1. A Little Treason

**Author's Note:**

> For people that don't like reading about character death – avoid anything after Chapter 3. Just stop at Chapter 1 and consider that complete.

"Gentlemen, are we ready to commit treason?"

Order 66 had come in mere seconds ago. Even as Rex watched the hologram, hearing the announcement in his helmet, he had screamed Ahsoka's name in his mind. He had too much experience with the Force. It was as real and tangible as his blaster.

"Ahsoka! They will kill you!" He was terrified the two troopers with her would succeed in executing Order 66 before she got back to the main camp, making his long and careful preparations useless.

His men, his personal squad of Echo, Fives and Chopper, had run to his tent even as the Order was being broadcast. Fives was still donning his helmet and Chopper's arms were bare of the armor he carried in his hands along with his deece.

 _Private channel,_ Rex signaled with his fingers. Echo brought up what he didn't want to think.

"What if they've already terminated her?"

"Then we go right on being good little clones for the Republic," replied Rex. "And those nights of discussion were simply that, discussions, strategy, late night plans."

Echo nodded, though he didn't believe it. They couldn't go back to working without Ahsoka, knowing she had died at their brothers' hands. He had some tenuous ideas, half-formed plans. He hoped he wouldn't have to think them through.

Chopper was adamant that she'd make it, "She'll take them on and be back. Our problem will be with the rest of Shrike."

Rex nodded. When Ahsoka had received knighthood, the 501st had hived off Shrike Company with Rex at its head while Appo took over the 501st. They worked well together. They all worked well together in almost seamless perfection.

Rex, tentatively at first, then more directly asked each individual of his company what they'd do when Order 66 came with its first revisions in the first year of the war. The new troopers hadn't hesitated and he had clapped his hand on their shoulders with murmured words 'Good trooper'. Only three men had reacted differently.

Fives' face had paled. His voice stuttered as he had actually read, actually thought about what the order entailed, before dropping his head in miserable acquiescence to Rex.

Quiet Echo had raised his eyebrows and said, "I'd follow your command, of course. Sir."

Chopper had let his Captain know he would die before he let the Togruta Jedi knight get hurt. He had adored her since she had defended him in his court martial and won. Nor had Chopper ever been subtle, even among his brothers. Rex had thanked them each and let them know they would be discussing it. He knew, they all knew, that this order would have been programmed into them, drilled into them so they would execute it before thinking about it.

He didn't know when he had fallen in love with General Skywalker's padawan. Had it been the very first day he met her? She'd been barely 14 and pressing him on military orders. Had it been the moment she had called the young, occasionally self-absorbed, General Skywalker "Skyguy" and he had to cover his laughter with his fist? Had it been when they were both stricken with blue shadow virus, and she reached out to take his hand when they were in medbay? Had it been when he'd seen how capable and caring and compassionate she was? But a soldier doesn't make things uncomfortable for anyone he serves with; he certainly doesn't run after a young girl, particularly one who outranks him. So Rex waited, though he didn't know what he was waiting for, putting off possibilities of a future to when a future could actually exist.

When Order 66 was revealed in tiny print in the mountain of revisions, Rex told himself that the order was a contingency for something that would never happen. But the nightmares came in a dozen varieties of death. He saw himself whip out his blasters and fire and see her body crumple and watch her betrayed expression as she knew who had killed her. Or he would turn to fire and be cut down by her lightsaber and again, have to watch her expression as she realized what she had done.

Rex convened night talks with his three men. Discussion came, tentatively at first, in wide arcs of hyperboles and 'what if's' because classified orders had their own protective inhibitions and couldn't be discussed. Time and practice wore down their programming, and they could discuss it among themselves, but even after a year they could only call it Six. They acted out their actions in defiance of Order 66 because they knew without practice to the contrary, their bodies would have the blasters out and firing before they even thought of refusing.

Now the order had come through when Ahsoka was with two clone troopers who weren't part of Rex's little act of treason. So he shouted in his mind, hoping that somehow his voice would reflect into the Force, warn her, and she'd be prepared.

"Rex! What happened?"

He froze. Her voice, her presence, was in his mind with another entity, immeasurably larger. Compassion enfolded him. "Rex, you screamed, and I was attacked by the troopers. What happened?" He couldn't answer that voice in his mind. Though he was unaware of it, Fives and Chopper had led him to a fallen tree and set him down. Echo stood guard, though he looked more as though he were loitering. Fives and Chopper gesticulated as they spoke softly to each other.

The reality of the Force was terrifying. It surrounded him, accepted him, and laid itself bare for him. It was vast, and Ahsoka flew in it like a small bird coming to lair in his mind. He was laid bare before her, his soul naked, his mind – everything, every thought, every dream he hadn't realized he'd had, every hope and wish he hadn't dare breathe to himself. She saw it all. Tears fell from his eyes, hidden by his helmet, unnoticed by himself.

"CAPTAIN REX," her voice was sharp, "REPORT!" He started, his body jerked as he came to himself. She was waiting, her breath soft on his face. "Oh, my Rex," her voice soft as she saw into his soul, and he was pleased she'd used the possessive. "I didn't know."

"What's to know. You were a kid." He growled, throat heavy with emotion. "You're still a kid."

In some far distant universe, he heard Chopper's voice, "Told you."

She showed him a particularly erotic dream he'd had not too long previously, and he blushed under his helmet. "I am not a kid." He smiled at her sweet-fierce tone of voice. The presence in his mind turned unusually solemn. "I am safe, Rex, but I don't think that coming back to camp is a good idea."

"Definitely not!" Rex agreed.

"I will find a way off this planet, but I don't think I should try to meet you."

"Meet me?" His voice was soft with wonderment. He shook his head, "No, there will be standing orders for your destruction as a Jedi."

Again from a distance came another voice, Five's. "Guess you're right."

He paused, a whisper of a dream touching him. "Maybe one day?" Then he was business. "But if you can't reach me, Echo, Fives or Chopper will do anything necessary." They all heard his unspoken words … 'if I'm dead'.

"Of course." He felt the love she had for his men, both an extension of the love he had for his brothers, and their own offerings of self to the young Jedi.

"Oh!" He felt her stiffen, the shock that struck her as it rippled through everything. "I can feel them dying. The younglings, even the younglings." He felt her soul's anguish and heard her cry. "Oh, Rex, they're just children."

There was nothing to say to that, but for a moment Rex felt as though she were leaning against him, using his strength to stand. He reached his arm up as though to hold her then let it drop to his side.

"Ahsoka, I don't want you to be alone. You'll need help."

"You did help. The troopers will be back, saying they have killed me, but I heard your voice and jumped off as the blast hit. I'm a little scorched," The mental image she sent of her rubbing her backside made him laugh. "But otherwise all right." She paused. "I am a Jedi knight, and the Force is with me."

There was silence, but he could feel her warm presence in his mind.

"Rex. I love hearing you laugh, and if you ever get the chance, come here." Coordinates and a memory picture embedded themselves in his mind. "I will be there. And if you don't know this by now, I love you." Then her presence was gone from his mind with only a soft thought remaining – _luminous beings are we_.

He put his hand to his throat com and sent out a private message to Chopper, Echo and Fives.

"Best of all worlds, gentlemen."

He could hear the troopers who'd been with her returning on their speeders, and Echo waved them in to report.


	2. Counting Coup

The troopers brought him Ahsoka's lightsaber and Rex solemly took it.  

But Rex knew she wasn't dead. She had told him so.  She had told him she would find him and had given him coordinates where she would meet him. Of course, she would have gotten rid of the light saber; every Republic soldier, Separatist, and bounty hunter with a blaster was out looking for the Jedi. 

Upon upon his return to the Coruscant headquarters, Rex took the light saber that had belonged to Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano to Marshal Commander Bly, who held it in his hands as though it were a heavy weight.

"Was it hard?" he asked and Rex told him the truth.

"I didn't do it. The order came while she and some troopers were doing a sweep. They drew back and terminated her with the speeder guns. I didn't lose a single man."

The Marshal Commander nodded. "You were lucky. Some of the Jedi were faster and we lost good troopers. Yoda is missing, and Gree is dead." Bly set the light saber on his desk next to several others. "But I think he's the only general who escaped." 

Looking at Bly was like looking into a melted mirror.  It was the same face but different choices. 

"Would you have…" Bly shook his head and let the question fall into space, turning to a different topic. "General Skywalker has asked me to bring some names to his attention as new commander of 501st. Are you interested?"

Once he would have been, but now Rex shook his head. Too much had changed too quickly and he needed time. There would be more changes. "You know me. I think with my blasters. I have no patience with paperwork or politics. Just put me out on the front lines. There's always a need of good captains."

"And you're the best, Rex. I'll see to it." Bly seemed oddly hesitant, as though the conversation wasn't over, as though there were questions to ask and answer.

"Did you…," Rex wasn't sure how to ask the question.  _ Did you want to commit treason? Do you have any regrets? Is this what you wanted? _ "Did you lose any men to Secura?" is what he settled on. 

Bly stiffened, suddenly cold and hard.   "No." Bly's voice was tight as he turned away. Rex knew the interview was over.


	3. An Incident on Bellassa

Rex's own words came back to haunt him. There always was a need for good captains. They sent him to Kashyyyk, to Bespin, to Nizon. They sent him out to a dozen different worlds under a dozen different commanders. Rex grew grim and hard at what he saw and did. They sent him to Bellassa, under Cody, to enforce Order 37.

Chopper, Echo and Fives followed him and did all he asked, and everything he couldn't ask. They noticed rare moments when his face relaxed, and he got a distant look in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips.

"Ahsoka." Chopper told the other two with satisfaction. "I told you."

Echo always worried about how it would affect the Captain; Fives worried what it would mean to their small squad. Chopper simply accepted it.

Rex would come out with something that was … not quite regulation. More often it was outright treason.

Chopper was out of his armor, but his face was his uniform, as was his military blaster.

The tensions weren't high enough yet for his presence to start a riot, but he could see it wouldn't be much longer. They glared at him with hatred in their eyes and malice in their hearts. A day, two at the most, and riots would tear apart this city, and blood would flow into her lakes.

He turned down the street, into an alleyway and knocked once as the barest courtesy, then pushed open the door. The woman gasped as she saw him and used her hands to hurry three small children into a curtained alcove suggesting there was another room. The youngest, a toddler, had the look of one of Chopper's brothers, and Chopper figured it would make his job easier.

The woman glared at him with hatred, and that wasn't what was wanted or needed. Still, he had time.

He attached a small holovid button above the door to get a variety of holos, then set the bottle he'd brought on the small table.

"Set the table," he ordered, "with whatever it was that you stole."

Her hands trembled as she brought out the plates. He gestured with his finger. "Just for one, but two glasses."

Her expression was still hate and Chopper sighed.  She didn't understand what was going to happen and thought he was here for her body.

Chopper shook his head. She should have. You don't steal from desperate people without repercussions. She set out the glasses and Chopper poured from the bottled he'd brought, just a little into her glass, more into his. Leisurely, he removed his gloves and jacket and laid them folded on the back of the chair. He pulled up his shirttails and unfastened his shirt, but left it on.

Post coital was the look Rex had suggested and his brothers had agreed, so Chopper complied.

Her look was hard but her lower lip trembled as she understood what he wanted, what she thought he wanted.

The eldest child, barely five years old, ran from the back and hit at Chopper's scarred chest with stubby hands. It shouldn't have hurt, but, Force-enhanced, it did.

Chopper gripped the child's fists knowing why she needed to leave Bellassa. He sat down and pulled the child to his lap. The woman had reached for a knife with a determined look but Chopper merely gestured to the nerf steak she had stolen. He nodded to himself. Protein, of course, and probably more for the children than herself.

The child in his arms cried softly with relief and put her golden head against his chest. He shushed her with a low voice and stroked the soft hair. He rocked her softly, cupping her face with his big hand, wishing, just for a moment, that he could go too.

But Rex needed him, and Ahsoka needed him, and he was their soldier. When the girl fell asleep, he put her into the woman's arms.  She carried the child into the back and returned to the outer room, eyes wary now and not as scared.

Chopper sighed. Not what was needed. She had set the steak on the table in front of him, and he cut himself a small bite. It was tough and he chewed, then swallowed. He reached up and touched her face softly. She closed her eyes in acceptance, in acquiescence as payment for his not taking the child.

He hated this part and was glad she'd closed her eyes. His big hand swung back, and he hit her, hard, to the side of the cheek at the curve of her eye. There was a minor blood vessel there, and it would pool acceptably.

She fell back in shocked confusion and would have fallen to the floor except for his hands. He nodded to himself. There was fear in her face now, something that could not be faked.

Handing her a glass. "Drink it," he ordered. "Sit down and eat a little. You'll need the strength."

Tears filled her eyes and ran down the curves of her face. That was much better.

He leaned against the wall, absently tucking his shirt back into his trousers, then remembering why he was here and pulling it back out.

By the time the men came for their justice, her face was puffy and swollen, red with tears and pale with fear. They hadn't knocked, but pushed in the door in anger, ready to take their justice.

The scarred trooper merely looked at them and slowly fastened his shirt, tucking the ends neatly into his trousers. The room was silent except for her muffled sobs.

"Next time," Chopper looked at the lead man, "see that the steak is tender."

They'd stared at the clone, hard and scarred then at the woman and knew she'd only done what she must, what women had always done to survive war and protect their own.

Shamed, they left without their brand of justice.

Chopper pulled on his jacket and his gloves. "In three days, you and the children will go to Carrik Station. Your tickets will be there." If the shuttle had come every day, he wouldn't have had to go through this farce to protect her for the next few days.  He cursed timing because it exposed him to something he wanted and wouldn't have until the war was over.  If it ever was.  And if he survived.

"But I'm Bellassan."  Her voice was gentle, as a mother's should be, and confused.  "I'm restricted from travel."

Chopper held up the small vid he'd attached earlier. "You won't be. There will be whatever papers are needed. You need to go because you'll steal again. You'll have to. Things aren't going to get better for a long while, and they'll catch you, and they will kill you."

She nodded slowly. 

He turned to leave, then turned back to her again. "It's probably not of any use, but if a clone trooper asks, you can tell him that CT-4523 is the father of your youngest. That might get you some small favor." He shrugged. "Maybe."

He paused again at the door, wanting to help.  It was much better than controlling riots of the starving righteous would ever be. "Listen to your daughter. She's perceptive beyond her years."

No more hints. He sucked in his lower lip and shut the door behind him.

In three days time, he watched as the small family boarded and left the planet, the little girl looking once at him, anonymous in armor, then softly waving.

He reported to Rex about food shortages, riots and a noticeable lack of Jedi presence on the planet.

On Bellassa, Captain Rex and his men had post Order 37 body disposal duty. They received a commendation for the exactitude of their detailed list of suppressed citizens.


	4. Saleucami's Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen –Thank you for reading and suggesting the additional chapters. Thank you for letting me use your Saleucami from your wonderful story "Homestead" which is still my absolute favorite.

Commander Cody was a broken man after Bellessa. Rex knew what demons had eaten his soul and cold-heartedly, he walked away from his brother.

Rex had done his best on Bellessa, and sometimes he could feel Ahsoka near him, or he would wake from a dream whispering her name. After Bellessa they'd sent for Rex, promoted him to commander. He'd had an interview with an Imperial admiral.

"You've done an excellent job, and I have good news. We have discovered a way to slow the unnatural aging of clones. I supposed you'd appreciate that?"

"If I can continue to be of value and service." He had dreamed of Ahsoka the night before. "For me and my men in service to the Empire."

_"All." She had stood before him in a room very like this, facing him with grimness on her face and fierceness in her voice. "All," she had told him quite firmly._

"Of course. I'll have the dosages for your company delivered tomorrow." The Admiral stood before the window looking down on Coruscant.

"You misunderstand me," Rex stated softly. "All of my men." He was afraid he was asking too much.

"Your entire brigade? You must be mad."

"No, sir."

_Her firm, fierce voice filled his head. "All."_

"All of the clones, sir. All."

"You vastly overestimate your value to the Empire."

With those words the interview was terminated on a sour note, and Rex knew he was dismissed. He considered himself the man who'd been a commander only for a few short minutes, until the next day, when the order came down from some dizzying heights of administration.

His entire company was inoculated within the week.

Slowly, by drips and drizzles he heard that every clone company had received the same.

Rex didn't like to think of how easily, how quickly it had been done. How few of his brothers remained. He had demanded an extra inoculation 'for the duty guard' and the medics had dropped a tiny vial into his big hands with so little concern that Rex was afraid it had all been some scam.

Echo laugh as he departed the transport on Saleucami.

Saleucami was outer rim, neither important nor rich, neither strong nor well-connected. It was nominally allied with anti-Imperial rebellion now, but only to the extent petty politics didn't interfere in economics.

There was little evidence of either Imperial or organized rebellion forces though it seemed everyone was armed.

Echo had never been on a world where there was no battle, except Kamino, so long ago. The air was sweet. There was no stench of tibanna, or coolant, or the tingly, metallic scent of robots. No smell of other troopers as they lacked time in the field to maintain Imperial standards of hygiene. There was no smell of death in the air, nothing at all of antiseptic as counterpoint to sepsis, no blood or taint of bacta. There was a noticeable lack of stale vomit and rations half rotted where some trooper had dropped them as he had pulled out his blasters for another attack.

Echo wanted to stand there, close his eyes and breathe it in until his lungs burst with the purity of it but he had a job to do so Echo hitched the heavy duffle onto his shoulder and moved down the street, his eyes taking in everything.

The men, who'd thought him an easy mark as he stepped off the transport with a youthful exuberance, changed their minds at his easy confidence. He moved as a far more experienced man and had a look about him that said he knew how to use his fists and whatever weapons he had on him. Expert eyes caught a stiffness under his jacket where a blaster was hidden. More experienced eyes saw the knife on an easy-drop sheath inside his sleeve. The most proficient caught the whiff of death on his big hands.

No, he wasn't nearly as young as he first appeared. He took the steps of a bar two at a time and went inside. His voice was cautiously friendly.

"I'm looking for a family man, name of Cut Lawquane?" "Ne'er heard of 'im," grunted the bartender as he leaned on the counter and continued stacking glasses, his three eyes barely flicking in Echo's direction.

"Fair enough." Echo reached into his duffle, pulled out a bottle, currency on any backwater world, and placed it lightly on the bar. The Gran gave it a glance then whipped around with all three eyes staring and blinking. "What can you find out and how soon? You see," Echo continued conversationally, his fingers tipping and spinning the bottle as he turned to include the clientele of the bar, "I don't have a lot of time and I'd really like to find my brother before I have to return for…" he paused and smiled, "for spring harvest."

There wasn't a soul in the bar who believed him to be anything but a bounty hunter, but there also wasn't anyone who knew of this Cut Lawquane. A big Wroonian spoke amid the murmurs and negative responses.

"There used to be a bar called Lawquane, near Issuya.  Where the small warehouses funnel wheat into the trade unions."

"How far is Issuya?" Echo asked.

"Two, maybe three days walk," the big man said and the bartender nodded. "Little more than couple hours on speeder truck. I've got one for hire."

Echo tucked the bottle back into his duffle. "I'll check it out, and, if you've been helpful I'll give you the _ouski_ when I come back."

There was a bit of grumbling from the Wroonian, who wanted the bottle now, but Echo made sure to get his name and where he could be met in a couple of weeks. He recited the information several times. Then, Echo leaned in close to the big man.

"Now, something tells me that you'll want to follow me to make sure I don't have an accident with this beautiful bottle, and I can understand that." With an unnoticed movement, Echo had out a small knife gently touching the man's side, pressing between two ribs. "But trust me, that would be a very bad idea. As an ancient Jedi master once said, develop patience, you must."

Echo was out of the bar and halfway down the street before the Wroonian started breathing normally again.

Echo laughed for joy as he loped towards the direction of Issuya in a ground-covering pace. Two, maybe three days? He didn't think so. He was a clone trooper: hard muscled, experienced, and in perfect condition. He'd spent the last week studying the planet, concentrating on the temperate zones, maps, wildlife. He'd get there in a day, leaving behind the Wroonian, who thought he was being subtle in his desire to inspect Echo's duffle.

Echo noticed daytime was short on Saleucami, and dusk took long to flower into night. There was a moon, bright and high in the sky, and another low on the horizon, spreading silver light over the fields. The plant life had recently been harvested, leaving a verdant, plant-y, living scent in the air. He had stopped, once, at a farmhouse to confirm the direction to Issuya.

The Twi'lek couple had pointed the way and offered him a drink of muja juice, after he made it evident that he had other places to go rather than loiter on their land. The juice had been sweet and fresh, and he closed his eyes while he drank it, letting taste be his only experience of the moment. He readjusted the duffle on his back and continued.

It was morning, the shadowed sky promising sunlight by noon, when Echo arrived in Issuya. He found the tavern, closed, and sat down to consider his next move.

He heard noises down the street, men, machinery, the shouting of hard work, and moved in that direction. As he turned a corner he almost ran into a Gran male came around going the other way. The Gran stopped short, stuttering, his eyes flicking around in consternation and confusion as he questioned the familiar/not-familiar man before him.

"Cut?"

And Echo hoped that it was going to be that simple. "I'm Echo Lawquane. Cut's my brother. I'm looking for him."

It was that simple.

The Gran, Arybas by name, had grabbed his arm and taken him into the warehouse introducing him to a Wroonian, older and more distinguished, Chios. They had made a fuss over him, invited him to Arybas' compound just a few kilometers from Cut and Suu's farm. From the warehouse to Arybas' compound was a short speeder ride, as Arybas kept asking questions and exclaiming without waiting for answers. Apparently, the Gran were a very family-oriented race and had considered the Lawquanes as poverty stricken in not having more family.

Echo had laughed at that.

After lunch, he walked from the compound of Arybas' family to the Lawquane farm, declining the offer of a ride. He wanted to go slowly from here, sorting through the confusion in his head.

Cut was a deserter, and Echo was disgusted by this behavior. Rex had said he had his reasons, but had refused to enlighten Echo.

In his duffel, he held the inoculation that would extend Cut's life to a normal human range, but Echo wondered if this man deserved the privilege without the pain. Echo had scars from battle. Fives, Rex, Chopper – especially Chopper, they all had scars, both inside and out. What scars did the Cut Lawquane carry?

Echo walked, seeing a house in the distance. Rex had described it as ramshackle but it wasn't, at least not anymore. Someone had spent time on the house, repaired it, painted it. He stopped and took a deep breath. They would see him by now, as a figure of a man. Soon they would see his face.

He walked into the yard, along the road. A young Twi'lek boy of around 11 years old ran towards Echo, then paused, confused. He swayed a bit and dug the ball of his foot into the roadway dirt. He walked parallel with Echo on the other side of the speeder path for several long seconds then pushed off the ball of his foot and was racing back to the house.

Echo laughed, eager to race him, but not daring to scare them by chasing the boy. A woman was coming out from the house with her hands full of a large bowl and moving towards a table under a tree. The boy reached her and tugged her arm. She looked at Echo and stiffened.

He slowed his pace and held his hands up, palms to her, his thumbs tucked into the duffel straps. She just looked at him for the longest time then nodded softly to herself.

"I'm Echo Lawquane. Cut's brother?" He stood back from her.

"Do you bring war to my family? Are you going to ask Cut to leave and take up blasters for your cause?" Her face was hard and searching. The boy behind her gaped at his mother's words, then glared at Echo.

Echo wasn't sure how to answer her.

While he was forming his answer, a toddler came from around the building, holding hands with an older girl and babbling cheerfully. Echo couldn't take his eyes from the amber-eyed child with dark curly hair surrounding her two lekku. His mouth moved but nothing came out. He tried again to give the woman her answer.

The decision and the words came together.

"No, ma'am. I'd sooner die." He realized it was true. Cut may have deserted, Echo had seen his own desires to desert, only loyalty to Rex kept him in.  What had there been to keep Cut in that was greater than this? 

His attention was on the baby who fussed to be released from her sister's quick arms, held tightly to keep her from this familiar stranger.

Rex hadn't told him this and probably hadn't known about it. Children were not a thought that entered any clone's mind.

Slowly he gave a big grin, delighted by Saleucami's gifts and turned to Suu, who nodded at his unspoken question. Her face softened as her attention moved behind him, and he turned to see his brother striding purposefully toward them, wary preparedness in his stride.

He gave Cut the inoculation the first night. 

Cut had said nothing, but his eyes moistened. His face was lined from wind and worry, looking older even than Rex's face, but Cut's eyes held laughter, and Echo knew that Cut's battles had been no less than his own, his scars no less than any other brother.

Suu, on the other hand, cried with relief, running her hands over her husband's face, squeezing his fingers. Her emotion was too painful for Echo to watch, and he tried to keep his eyes on Cut. The two older children looked apprehensive until Cut explained in soft words what would happen. Jekk had raced outside, whooping in delight, and the usually calm and very conscientiously growing-up Shaeeah had done the same.

Echo spent three weeks at the Lawquane farm. He worked with Cut in the fields and the barn, ate with them in the evening, and learned to play dejarit. He raced with Jekk and softly teased the growing up Shaeeah. He learned to dance, and the Lawquanes had a party simply, as they put it, to celebrate family. He learned to read night time stories and sing lullabies to Cut's daughter, Ayhan.

The other gifts in Echo's duffle were secondary, but welcome. Some silk material in a soft bronze brought a delighted cry from Suu and Shaeeah, while Cut held the refill cartridges for his blaster firmly and nodded. War would not be going away.

Sometimes Cut and Echo sparred, Echo surprised by the farmer's wiry strength and unexpected moves. They stayed up at night, often with Suu, and discussed the war, discussing options if war came again to Saleucami, discussed their future.

Echo felt whole.

When he returned to Rex he'd found Rex's brigade thin through attrition and suggested requisitioning original clone troopers from other units.  They all came willingly, all of them proud to serve with the legendary Commander Rex. Most of them were ready to lay down their life for the myth of him. Echo, Fives and Chopper still called him Captain and were ready to lay down their lives for the man.

Echo didn't survive the Yavin skirmishes.


	5. "No, sir."

Echo didn't survive the Yavin skirmishes. Rex and Chopper missed him and both said the daily remembrance for him. Fives wept nightly, missing his brother with a pain that would not abate, as though half of his soul had gone missing. With Echo's absence, Fives thought Rex might finally go to that place embedded in his mind by Ahsoka and see her, that he might grant all of them a little peace.

Instead Rex took a diplomatic post in Aldaraan. 

It was known that Commander Rex's appointment was hoped by the Empire to lead to incriminating and substantial evidence of rebellion by the royal family. It was considered one of the Commander's failures. Rex, Chopper and Fives considered that posting a great success, though its aftermath had put them on Vader's ship and under the leadership of their old general.

Fives was the only man to tell Darth Vader "no" and survive.

" Did you…" asked Rex as he entered the office on the destroyer, one of the rare times he wasn't the ranking officer.

" Done," replied Fives.

" The paperwork .."

" Filed."

" What about.."

" Postponed until next week."

" The…"

" Rex, it's done. Everything is done. As finished as it can be until tomorrow brings more. You've been surviving on stims and adrenaline for two days. Go to sleep before you drop on your face in front of some admiral or planetary governor, and I lose my pension." 

They'd both chuckled at that. There was no pension for clones.

Fives removed Rex's boots from the barely awake commander, gently pushed him down to the bed on his side, and checked the wound in his shoulder. It was healing well, but needed time. 

_ Well, _ thought Fives , _it will have to settle for a bacta patch_.

Rex sighed as Fives ministered. "I haven't dreamed of her in a long time."

Fives had nodded. "Captain," 

Rex gave a half-smile at the old rank. 

"You're on a destroyer with her old master. Maybe she's staying away because he'll be able to sense her. Be able to tell …" Fives let his voice fade. That was treason, best not referred to in words. Best not even thought of or remembered.

Rex nodded and was asleep before Fives had finished applying the bacta.

Fives finished clearing up the medkit, took the boots to the foyer of the cabin and polished them. He set out the uniform for tomorrow after checking the calendar. They were due another assignment soon, and then it would be back in armor. Fives preferred armor. He preferred the adrenaline rush of battle. He had once enjoyed it's clear-cut division of good and evil but that no longer existed. He quietly adjusted the ambient lighting of his commander's room and, closing the door behind him, went to his office at the front of Rex's quarters.

Fives hands were on the datapad at his desk, occupied with trooper schedules, and he glanced up as the door opened. Fives jumped and snapped to attention as Lord Vader strode in with two aides, then Fives relaxed into parade rest at the short nod.

" You will tell Commander Rex that Lord Vader will see him."

"No, sir." Fives' voice was soft and calm as he looked into that dark and soulless mask.

The great black figure lifted his hand with an open gesture. There was no fear in the trooper, only steadfastness of purpose. 

Vader's aides gasped at the audacity of this clone standing in front of the inner door, not even at attention.

" No, sir," Fives repeated. "I promised myself that the Commander would not be disturbed. And it will be over my dead body," he paused, considered, and dared. "General Skywalker, if that happens."

The two following Vader knew it would be the insolent clone's dead body on the deck in mere moments. They had small moons for eyes, waiting for the Sith lord to tear him apart for using a forbidden name, for defying the Sith lord, for not moving out of his way. For his insubordination. For his very existence.

There had been several moments of silence, and Darth Vader's deep voice had rumbled from the mask as he nodded. "Very well, Fives. When he is available, ask him to see me."

Fives had affirmed so and gave Lord Vader his best salute, holding it a fraction longer than necessary, remembering the reckless young general he had served.

Rex effectively lost Fives on Hoth. An AT-AT fell, crushing his legs. It took two days to find him, and between his injuries and frostbite, Rex had dared not send him to an Imperial medical unit. Choppers' temporary assistance, a neutral world, and all the credits he controlled had been the last kindness he could offer his brother.


	6. A Good Place to Die

_ Chopper followed Rex everywhere, his trust repaid for that court martial so long ago. Chopper was now the only one Rex trusted. Who would, at odd moments, tell Marshal Commander Rex, "Ready for a little treason when you are, Captain." _

Endor's moon was a kriffing, shabla pit of a backwoods satellite with too much wrong with it besides the presence of the Rebel Alliance. The air moisture caused electronics failures, and small things kept inconveniently disappearing, often to show up later at an equally inconvenient place. They had thought a thief was among them, at first, and tensions between the human-born troops were still high. Half the ground was illusionary solidness over bog. Although the Death Star II had been destroyed, Rex knew he could still subdue the Rebel Alliance. Careful planning could take care of them without too many casualties on either side.

Was that a light saber? There'd been rumors of a Jedi in the Rebel Alliance and Rex had dared to hope.

"Sir, you'd better …" he heard Chopper's voice as a blast hit nearby.

Shrapnel whistled like tiny missiles. One large, flat piece of metal hit Rex dead center. It's speed and torque sufficient to shatter the armor and crush his ribs. The sharp plastoid points tore into his lungs.

"Ahsoka, I'm sorry. I never came to visit you," he whispered as he realized he'd been afraid she wouldn't be there.

"She understands, Captain." Chopper's voice. "She knows."

" _ Then I'll have to visit you." _ He thought it was the wind at first, but it was her voice.

"Where are you?"

" _ Where I've always been. In your heart." _

Chopper, listening to Rex's voice, knew he was no longer part of the conversation.

"You died at Order 66." Rex's voice accused softly though he'd often suspected in darkest nightmares.

Rex heard bubbling laughter and felt loving hands. 

_ " _ _ Does this look dead to you?"  _

He could see, and he couldn't see, but her life and vitality were unmistakable. Ahsoka laughed and hugged him and pulled his face to hers. His mind whirled at her nearness … he'd taken a chest wound. His lungs crushed. Where was he getting the breath for a conversation? For standing? 

The strength for holding her had always been there and he hugged her, laughing.

Chopper held his Captain in his arms. He wasn't dead, but there was no mistaking the fatality of that wound. Chopper did what he could about the wound, saw it wouldn't be sufficient, and stopped, merely holding his vod. He pulled off Rex's helmet and his own armored gloves so he could touch his captain's face. Sometimes the captain's lips moved and a whispered name "Ahsoka." Sometimes he actually saw Chopper. 

"No pain, Chopper. Doesn't hurt a bit."

"Course not, Captain. It's barely a scratch." It was the familiar soldier's black humor. But Chopper saw Rex drifted between now and elsewhere and was content to wait. Rex spoke once more to Chopper. 

"I couldn't have asked for truer brothers than you three."

"Ready for a little treason, Captain," Chopper told Rex with a smile.

The words evoked a soft smile from Rex, and he spoke to ghosts, "Best of both worlds, gentlemen."


	7. A Strange Man, Relaxed in War

A woman came from the undergrowth, a Rebel doing a sweep for stragglers and enemy forces, not that it mattered anymore. Not that it had ever mattered for Chopper after Order 66.

"Raise your hands." She motioned with her blaster.

Slowly he raised one hand and removed his helmet. He never liked the new model and was, as usual, wearing his old Phase 1 issue, though it had been upgraded with new electronics to keep it at command level.  _ Always let the enemy see you as human _ . 

He saw her start seeing his old, silvered scars that covered the side of his head and bisected one side of his face. His not-quite-old face had several tattoos, newer and sharper than the scars, the number 5, 'ECHO' in Aurebesh and a green light saber that seemed to glow dividing them. She gasped as she recognized him as a clone and thought, by the tattoo, that a Jedi had died by his hands.

"Both hands."  Her voice was slightly harder, used to giving orders.

Chopper looked at his arm around Rex's shoulders, Rex's hand clenching his wrist lightly, still alive, blood covering the splintered white armor.  He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ma'am."

She looked at the fallen man and a sudden look of sympathy came over her features. There was no mistaking the look of death. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, though the gun didn't waver.

"It's ok. Him and me … we've lived too long anyway." Slowly he shifted. "I'd like to get my canteen, if I may? It's close to the blaster and I'm open to suggestions."

His eyes were mismatched, one pale, almost colorless, and his face didn't have the feral tenseness she thought a clone should have. He seemed as relaxed as though he were sitting in a park watching small birds and flowers; as though he feared nothing: not her, not the weapon, not death itself. She shivered, remembering what she'd been taught about clones, their ferocity, their abilities, their harsh upbringing leading to harsh realities. But no one had ever mentioned deceit.

"Move slowly," she ordered, and he nodded as he did so. He brought the water to his lips and drank then dampened the dying man's lips. He noticed she didn't have a canteen and held out his own to her with a questioning look.

She shook her head, though he could see she was thirsty. He set the canteen down with a nod. "Well, don't let yourself get dehydrated." He looked around the forest, green and fresh and new. She reminded him of someone from long ago and Chopper smiled at her then down to his captain. "It's a good place to die  _ ori'vod _ . I'll see to everything, Captain."

"Not much left to.." Rex's voice faded and Chopper nodded. No, there wasn't much to see to anymore.

The rebel noticed Rex's kama and the worn armor that hadn't been shiny in her lifetime. "Who is he?"

Chopper shook his head and sighed. "Just another clone. My Captain."

He moved slowly, and she backed away, keeping her distance.

"That's smart, but I'm not going to attack you.  I'm not going to go for my blaster or my knife. Or whip that vine around your feet and knock you over." She glanced down to see a thick vine between her feet, the end trailing to where he sat. He moved his hand from around the dead man's shoulder to show her the thick cord of green in his fist. He let it fall to the forest floor. "I've got more important things to do. Bury my brother. Leave this kriffing war we've been fighting for longer than you've been alive."

She obviously didn't trust him, but he hadn't made any attempt to overcome her. She shifted her feet so the vine was no longer a concern and his lips quirked. Her feet had found another bad spot for her to stand. "Where are you going to go?" 

He listened to her question and heard honest curiosity.

"Don't know. Too soon to think of that." He laughed softy. "My whole life, and I haven't thought of that. Thought I'd die long before now." He rose to his knees and put his arms around the body of his companion. " _ Osik, ori'vod _ . You weigh more than a bantha." His fingers removed Rex's armor, setting the helmet aside in deference. He fingered through the armor pieces until he found one that pleased him with its heft and shape.

"Find my brothers. I know one or two. Maybe check on a small girl." He stood and she scrambled back further, tripping a bit and almost losing her balance as her legs were stopped by a fallen tree. He smiled at her clumsiness. "Always remember what's behind you." Then he turned and, using the greave for a shovel, commenced to dig into the soft soil of the forest.

Still a little off-balance, she sat heavily on the log and lowered the blaster.

"I'll tell you this though." He spoke softly, punctuated with small grunts of effort. "I won't be going back with you to whatever prison hole you'd be taking me to, and the easiest time to escape is when you're on the move." He pushed the dirt aside, shifted a bit and again bit the leg armor into the soil. "I wouldn't want to hurt you, but accidents happen in war. What we intend isn't always what happens." He glanced up at her. "Just letting you know that I'm sorry, but I'll do whatever I have to."

She sighed softly, knowing he spoke from experience. Her own experience had been the same. "I'm lost." He gave a small chuckle as he continued to dig.

"I figured that. But you aren't too far from your lines. Problem is, you're within our lines." He touched his thumb to his jaw. "At least where our lines are supposed to be." He smiled at her again, letting her have the information, seeing her face take it in. "We came out over here because he thought he saw…" He was quiet and she waited.

"What?"

"Something. Let it be at that." The clone's voice was suddenly hard, and she shivered, finding it more in line with the reputation of their ruthlessness.

Her hands tightened around the blaster for reassurance. He shifted again, the makeshift shovel cutting easily into the dirt. He wasn't digging a grave so much as cutting an oval into the earth. She holstered her blaster and moved to where the body and armor were. The dead clone didn't look ferocious. He looked peaceful, content with the choices of his life.

She looked at the man cutting the grave. Though their facial features were similar, their lives had been different, and the lines on the dead clone's face were different than the lines on the living man. She picked up a piece of armor. As he dug, she scraped and shifted the soil aside.

When they'd finished, she helped move the dead man into the makeshift grave. "Hmmf. He'is heavy," she grunted. "A lot more than he looks."

"Solid muscle. A higher percentage than born humans. Makes us heavier. Stronger and faster, too." She caught the implied threat but ignored it. The clone fiddled for a moment with the helmet then set it in the grave. Together they covered him. The clone took care as he moved the cut pieces of vegetation onto the grave. When he was done, she barely recognized the grave as not part of the forest and realized that had been his intention.

Chopper stood and thought for a moment. No sense in letting her know who they had just buried in case she knew Mando'a.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, alor'ad ori'vod."

She wished she had something to say, but didn't and so was silent. He turned and sighed, "Thanks." Then he moved to the armor and, piece by piece, threw it in different directions into the forest. When he heard one hit water, he threw the remainder in that direction. Chopper reached for his helmet and tapped it onto his head, standing, listening. Then he removed the helmet once again. 

"Looks like Rebel Alliance won this battle." Well, that had probably been his and Rex's fault. "Your best bet is that way." He pointed and laughed gently at her confused look, then her arched eyebrow and moue of impatience at the dense forest.

"You're not a regular soldier, are you? Admin? Planner? Political?"

Her face told him the answer, but he realized it didn't matter and made a small gesture with his hand. "Follow the trees, see how the buttress roots are ridged? The ridging is north to south. You just stay a little to the right of south, and you'll make it back to an Alliance group at the shield generator you took over the other day. I'm sure you'll hear noise as you get closer." 

He manipulated his own helmet, and she knew he was removing some chip.  Then he tossed her the helmet. "A trophy. It will do you proud."

He walked from the small clearing with a heart lighter than it had ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end. I hope you enjoy the story.


End file.
